Pressure squeezed Deacon’s chest. His breathing grew ragged. He’d put Lana first. He’d been doing that since the moment she was abducted from the train station.
What did that mean? Why had he done that?
Because you love her.
He leaned his forehead against the bars, letting the metal cool his suddenly hot skin. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. From the second he’d met Lana Kelley, he’d been overwhelmed with emotion. Ridiculously intense emotions. That same intensity had consumed his father and destroyed his mother, but it hadn’t destroyed Lana. Even when she told him about the pregnancy, after withholding the truth for so long, he hadn’t snapped.
His father would have snapped.
News flash, buddy, you’re not your father.
Deacon sucked in a shock-tinged breath. Clarity sliced into him. No, he wasn’t his father. The destiny he’d always believed lay in store for him…well, that was nothing but a load of bull.
He controlled his destiny. And he couldn’t live his life waiting for the darkness in him to spill out. Couldn’t avoid caring about others in fear that it would.
Damn it, he cared about Lana. He loved her.
Along with the liberating rush of joy that swelled in his belly came the crushing blow of frustration. He was in prison. There was nothing he could do for Lana as long as he was in here, not even tell her how he felt.
A door swung open, bringing a gust of warm air into the somewhat cool holding area. Footsteps came from the end of the block, growing louder and heavier, until one of the FBI agents who’d arrested him stepped into view.
“Looks like you’ve got friends in high places,” the agent announced with a reluctant look.
A uniformed officer approached from behind, already unclipping the key ring from his black leather belt. Deacon fought a spark of hope. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not even Lana had the kind of power to save him from the kidnapping charges hanging over his head. Did she?
His hope deepened when the officer stuck a key into the cell door and pulled it open.
Deacon didn’t move. “What’s going on?” he asked warily.
“You’re free to go,” the federal agent said with a shrug. “There’s a car waiting outside to take you to Helena General.”
Deacon just stood there, thunderstruck.
“Christ, get out here,” the agent grumbled. “I’m not about to keep the Kelleys waiting.”
With legs heavier than lead, Deacon walked out of the cell. Lana had kept her promise. She’d actually saved his ass.
For a moment, he contemplated ordering the car to take him to the airport instead of the hospital. He could disappear. Empty out his bank account, fly to an island somewhere and live his life the way he’d always planned—alone.
But the thought disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Squaring his shoulders, he followed the agent out of the holding area, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
Screw living alone.
He’d much rather claim the love of his life and spend the rest of his life doing everything humanly possible to make her happy.
Lana changed out of the blue hospital gown the doctor had forced her to put on, quickly changing into a pair of clean jeans and the baggy green sweater her mom had thoughtfully brought for her. She slipped her stockinged feet into comfortable brown loafers, then tied her hair in a loose twist atop her head.
The doctor had given her a clean bill of health after forcing her to endure an uncomfortable pelvic exam and an awe-inspiring ultrasound. The baby was fine. She was fine.
Her father, however, was not.
She sat back down on the gurney, impatience rising inside her. The doctor had left the room to get her some prenatal vitamins, but she didn’t want to sit here and wait. Twenty minutes ago, the surgeon who’d operated on her dad had informed the family that Hank was in a medically induced coma. Although the bullet that had entered his temple had fortunately avoided damaging her father’s brain, the swelling had been impossible to manage. If it continued to swell, the doctors feared it would result in brain damage, and Lana’s mother promptly signed the consent form allowing them to induce a coma in order to control the swelling.
Lana was eager to see her dad, even though she knew he probably wouldn’t even know she was there. Despite the choices he’d made that had contributed to her abduction, she wanted to be there for him.
The door swung open, and she hopped off the gurney, ready to snatch those vitamins from the doctor’s hands and head back up to ICU.
But it wasn’t the doctor who stood in the doorway.
Her heart flipped as her gaze collided with Deacon’s. He still wore the faded jeans and black sweater he’d had on earlier, and she noticed specks of gravel stuck in his close-cropped hair. But other than that, he looked unharmed.
“He did it,” she breathed.
Deacon moved closer, his hazel eyes flickering with confusion. “Who did what?”
“My uncle Donald. I asked him to help get you out of jail.”